


How Azog Brought Love to the Mountain

by Grumpel



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Battle of Five Armies Fix-It, Fix-It, M/M, Magic, So not canon compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-03
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-24 07:12:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6145716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grumpel/pseuds/Grumpel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A different take on the fight between Thorin and Azog on Ravenhill. It could have happened this way, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Wish.

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Bunny Saga](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2731103) by [alkjira](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alkjira/pseuds/alkjira). 



> So - I felt I had no choice but to write this story after reading about Thorin, Bilbo, the Company and a heckload of supercute furry bunnies. I had two choices: Get this story out in all its messed up glory so I can move on and return to Dwarrowhearts (chapter 6!), or continue tweaking and fussing over this one until it is reduced to 100 words. I am convinced that I would be useless as a whittler - nothing would be left of the wood.

~~ Ravenhill, During the Battle of the Five Armies ~~

“Bilbo, no!”

Thorin pushed Bilbo out of Azog’s weapon reach, just in time before the monstrous orc sword crushed the hobbit. The noble dwarrow managed to block most of the swing with his left arm but it came at a price with the sound of breaking bones.

Bilbo stumbled back and dropped his short sword while he fought to regain balance and breath. He had rushed heedlessly into the ferocious duel between the two warriors, only thinking about saving his friend and without a moment’s worry about his own safety or what he would do once he was in the middle of the fight. The brief but searing feeling of terror that struck him felt just as horrible as that previous time near the cliffs when he had jumped from a tree and ran madly towards Azog with shaking legs and a roar that had sounded far more courageous than he had felt. As the memory swept over him he lost himself to the past but was snapped back to the present quickly when his right hand connected with a familiar piece of jewelry in his pocket. He instinctively tightened his grip around the ring and with such ferocity that he let out a surprised groan but the only other two beings near enough to hear him had already returned their full focus to the fight as they circled each other slowly with raised weapons. The air was filled with breathless snarls and enraged glares, and there was little doubt that each was watching for the slightest hint of weakness in the other.

Bilbo felt another swell of fear rise from the pit of his stomach. He wanted to scream but his vocal cords did not obey and so he forced himself to pull his fists out of the coat pockets and move towards his weapon that was still lying on the ground The hobbit was terrified that any moment that delayed him from standing by Thorin might become the king’s downfall. As he still scrambled to pick up Sting he suddenly felt a searing flash of pain inside his right palm, so fast and sharp that it forced his hand to open. Immediately a bright beam shot out of the ring, hitting the massive pale orc whose body was illuminated with a brightness that caused both Thorin and Bilbo to stagger and cover their eyes. When they started to regain their vision Azog had vanished.

“What was that?” Thorin yelled. His eyes swept the area in one rapid movement while he gripped his Orcrist and swung it around with all the might that he could muster. There was nothing for his sword to connect with. “Bilbo?” he shouted, a whisper of of panic starting to creep into his voice.

“I’m here, I’m here... I don’t know!” Bilbo panted. When the beam faded he thrusted his hands back into the pockets of his coat. He could still feel the powerful aura of the ring but there was no more heat and pain. He took a deep breath and fought down his urge to pull the ring back out for inspection. Instead he stammered, “where is ..., ” when a tiny movement on the ground caught his attention. “Look out!”

On the ice before them a tiny guinea pig was shivering. It looked half frozen even with its dense long cream-coloured fur that was spotted with orange and brown flecks. When it noticed the stares of the dwarrow and the hobbit, high-pitched squeaking noises emerged from its tiny mouth. It was not unlike the sound that baby rabbits made when they were separated from their mothers. Thorin stared, incomprehension written all over his face.

BIlbo was equally confused but in typical hobbit fashion felt that someone had to say something to bridge the awkward silence. Clearing his throat half a dozen times may not have been the smartest or coolest response but it at least helped him find his words again. Not believing for a moment that the rodent would be able to distinguish words from nonsensical syllables, he nevertheless politely addressed it with, “Err... pardon me?” The guinea pig shook and cowered. Thorin continued to stare. With a nervous sigh, Bilbo inched closer to the animal and then slowly bent down for a close look.

“Watch out! This creature might be dangerous.” Thorin raised Orcrist and let its blade hover over the guinea pig’s neck. His stance was menacing; the king was clearly more than willing to relieve the tiny animal of its life at any sign of threat.

Bilbo responded by stepping between the two unevenly matched combatants and pushing Thorin's end of the sword away from the tiny adversary. He pointedly took his time to turn his back at the glowering dwarrow before he administered a faint toe stub to the furry pipsqueak. Even more startled, the guinea pig instantly curled into a tight ball, its face and eyes disappearing into the deep belly folds.

Bilbo felt bad for having spooked the little creatures. “Hello,” he added in a soft voice, “are you alright?”

No movement. Just barely audible squeals were emitted from the lump of fur.

Thorin lost the sliver of patience that he had held onto. “What do you think you are doing? Are you seriously trying to have a chat with this thing? Don’t you see! This IS Azog.” He pointed at the rolled up animal, “Look at the missing paw!” Sure enough, just as the orc had been missing his left arm, there was a stump where the left front paw should have been. “Our people are still dying out there in the battle. Step aside and let me finish it.”

“Why, Thorin... he’s shaking like a leaf!” Bilbo wanted to approach the trembling rodent as gently as possible but when he saw that Thorin lifted his sword, expecting Bilbo to step aside, he abandoned his careful procedure and used his hands to scoop Azog up and hold him protectively against his chest. The guinea pig gave a surprised grunt and burrowed its head even deeper.

Thorin growled, “Give him to me so I can give this a proper end.”

“Proper end!” Bilbo protested. “Thorin! We cannot kill Azog when he is in such a defenseless state. That would be a monstrous act.” He used his thumbs to gently stroke the back. “We need to get him to a safer place. Away from the battle.”

“A safer place?” Thorin exclaimed. “Have you lost your mind, Bilbo? This is the leader of the orc army that has been hunting and trying to kill us for months. What weird hobbity propriety do you follow in thinking that we owe him any mercy?” And in a softer voice he continued. “I know you are a gentle soul, so I promise you that you will not have to watch when I dispatch of him.”

Bilbo stared at Thorin and swallowed before bracing himself. He pointed his chin defiantly at the king. “I will only hand him over if you swear by the lives of everyone in your family that no harm will come to him. You must not take his life without due cause or fair trial.”

“Due cause? Fair trial??” Thorin sputtered. “Think of what you are asking me to do! You want me to forgive and forget everything that has befallen me and my family? If this is Azog the Defiler, all the more reason to kill him lest there be the tiniest shred of a chance that he would return to finish what he started. We are in the middle of a war that he incited! All these battles that were of his making simply because he wanted my family line destroyed. Due cause my butt!” he grumbled. “And if this is nothing but an innocent creature that just happen to wander into this area at the most inopportune time, then I will happily bear the blood of a tiny furball on my hands in return for ensuring my people's safety.”

But the hobbit refused to hand over the animal. He looked his leader in the eye and calmly stated, “Are you willing to take the risk and hurt me so you can get what you want?”

To which Thorin sighed and then finally lowered his sword. “No, my dear friend. I will not take that risk. Not now and never again.” He rubbed his tired forehead with the back of his hand. “Are sure about your decision?”

“Yes, I am sure.”

Thorin released a disappointed sigh. “Then we shall take this monster with us as we see this battle to the very end.”

Bilbo carefully opened his palms as they peered at the fluffy ball that was still trembling in his hands. “Err, If you could, one more thing, please? Assure him that everything is well and that he is safe.” The hobbit finished his request and was met with a murderous glance.

“Oh for Mahal’s sake.” Thorin swore soundly and marched off, throwing his arms up in the air. But he returned a second later, took a deep breath while he sought the hobbit’s eyes and once found, began to promise in a deep soothing voice: “Shhh, little creature, I swear on the great halls of my ancestors that you are safe and pledge that no harm shall come to you as long as you are under my protection. For now.”

The little body heaved a few times and then unfurled until they could see a pair of shiny black eyes looking up. The top of his head was even more unruly than before, showing orange fur tufts sticking out in all kinds of directions. His nose vibrated along with an unknown rhythm sensed from the warm skin and the undercurrent blood that provided the warmth.

“Oh....” Bilbo sighed softly. “He is adorable.” Thorin frowned deeply at this comment.

When they heard the sound of powerful wings, their eyes went to the skies. The eagles had arrived.


	2. Granted.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How will the dwarrows deal with the fact that Azog is now living amongst them? Actually, how will Bilbo deal with it?

~~ One Month Later in Erebor ~~

Bilbo stood at the massive gates and waited.

Thanks to the thoughtful gift from Ori his waistcoat was now re-equipped with acorn-shaped buttons. Although never tested for travel durability, his outerwear had proven to be of the sturdiest make, lasting through extreme weather, troll spittle and snot, sharp rock giant fragments, muddy handprints, sticky patches of spiderweb, wild river water, dank corridors dust, soot from things scorched by dragonfire, and of course, the overwhelming amount of remnants from all the blood-stained fights that happened between Bag End and Erebor. Only some slight fraying at the hem showed evidence of the endless challenges that had been flung at the coat and its wearer. The original Shire buttons had not been so lucky: They had all disappeared one by one during the strenous journey, most of them having gone without Bilbo's knowledge. The only one he remembered losing was the last button: it bounced into the hoards of gold as he ran for his life from a very angry fire-spewing Smaug.

Though durable and shiny, the new buttons were of no use today for the sun shone brightly through the brilliant sky - walking around with a buttoned up coat would have been righteously an insult to the perfect late fall weather. The hobbit was ecstatic to spend some time in the open air after being cooped up in the library that was located deep within the recesses of the mountain. He loved books and parchments almost as much as second breakfast but after three straight days of inventorying and cataloguing piles and piles of dusty tomes he was ready to embrace anything that would help him relieve his stiff neck and bring some fresh air back into his lungs. Well, he would happily make do without one of Dwalin’s shoulder massages - he had learned his lessons rather quickly the one and only time he foolishly took him up on the offer. 

The guards were standing at attention in their heavy armour but smiled at the humming hobbit. It was common knowledge that he went on a weekly walk with Thorin, and gossip had readily confirmed that it was the only time the king was found smiling instead of frowning and griping about politics and the dragon that had left the mountain in a dreadful state. Every inhabitant in the mountain had seen with their own eyes how Thorin relentlessly drove himself to restore the Durin kingdom: He always never took a break and angrily waved away anyone who would dare to suggest that he needed any kind of rest. He was often found amidst a group of miners, engineers or stone masons, lending a  hand to whatever work he happened to come upon or was inspecting. When he sat down, rolls of paper materialized next to him without fail (often brought forth by Balin or Ori) and waiting to be read, discussed and acted upon. The only time anyone saw him rest was when he fell asleep with his head against his hand and his elbow propped up on throne’s armrest in between court sessions. It was no surprise then that the rebuilding of the mountain had progressed with an astonishing speed, a relief since there was still much work that needed to be done in the mountain and in the town of Dale before they would be assured that survival during the coming winter months was no longer in question.

Only Bilbo had been sneaky enough to free Thorin a little from his constant worries; he had insisted that his weekly reports of Dale needed to be delivered verbally and in person. Luckily Thorin believed the claim that as one of Yavanna’s children, his favourite burglar depended on a regular time under the sun to avoid a slow withering death caused by the lack of it. 

\---

“Are you serious?” Bilbo placed his hands on the hips but let them fall to his sides immediately when he noticed the beginnings of a smirk on the king’s face. Displeased with his friend's mirth he tilted his head and glared with narrowed eyes at the hulking dwarrow. A highly vexed look was cast towards the crook of royal elbow where Azog the guinea pig was chutting away contentedly on a piece of straw.

“Bilbo,” Thorin rolled his eyes, “please, must we argue about this again?”

“Argue? Who is arguing?" The hobbit folded his arms. “I merely asked if you needed to bring him along with us on the walk. Again.”

“I remember very clearly that it was you who urged me to show compassion to our enemy. And what happens? I follow your advice and make sure that this beast does not lack in any comfort, and now of all the things, you want to chastise me for bringing him out for fresh air!” Thorin had not stopped stroking the top of the tiny fluffy head. Azog's ears twitched at the sounds of the words that were exchanged.

“No! Yes! I mean, NO, I do not disagree that he should get some fresh air but YES, I find it ... odd that Azog seems to be traveling with you wherever you go.” Somehow he managed to suppress, _and that you no longer offer me your arm when we walk._

The guards at the gate looked everywhere but at the two and strained hard to pretend to not hear any of their conversation as the king shrugged. “What do you wish me to do, Bilbo? You know how distraught he gets when I put him in a box or leave him in someone else’s care.  You have heard the loud shrieks and seen his panicked clawing.  Poor Ori had to have his hand bandaged after I asked him to hold him for a few minutes, and the last time I locked Zoggy away by himself it took a full day of petting him just to get him to eat again." He huffed. "Why does it even matter? He’s not going tackle us or interrupt us constantly like my troublemaking nephews. Can we please just try and enjoy our little break from all the other obligations for a bit?”

There was nothing Bilbo would not do to keep his good friend from any further stress, so he finally nodded and tucked his hands behind his back as he followed Thorin and Azog out of the gate.

\---

It had all started out innocently enough: After the battle had been won and they arrived back at the camp, Bilbo presented Azog to the disbelieving eyes of the company, Gandalf, and Thorin’s cousin, King Dain of the Iron Hills. The meeting had blown up into chaos where everyone was shouting over each other, offering their opinions and misgivings about what should be done with this peculiar set of circumstances, all while the rodent snoozed soundly in Bilbo’s coat pocket (not the one with the ring, of course). Dwalin had gone off on Bilbo, accusing him of falling for a ruse that 'must have been surely concocted by the evil forces!' while Dain eagerly volunteered to ‘lose that hamster orc somewhere in a full soup pot’. In the end Thorin kicked the table hard enough until one its legs gave out and bellowed “ _Itkit!”_ (‘shut up’ in Khuzdul) before any semblance of order returned to the gathering.

“There will be no more talk about this tonight!” The king stood resolutely and held out his hand to Bilbo. “I will keep Azog with me so no one gets any idiotic ideas until we discuss this in a more rational manner. Until then I expect that you will all consider him a Prisoner of War, and that he will be spared from any harm. This meeting is over.” Bilbo felt relief flowing through his veins upon hearing Thorin’s decision. _He truly is a fair and righteous ruler_ , he thought with some pride.

As the other dwarrows left the meeting tent, an extended chuckle turned both of them around to face Gandalf who was puffing away on his pipe. “My goodness, look at you, Thorin. You might beat that stubborn streak in your family after all.”

“At least I am not constantly making cryptic comments and confusing the hell out of people,” was Thorin’s grumbled response.

Gandalf smiled. “I am also happy to see YOU alive and well, your majesty.” He used his thin end of his pipe to gently pry open Bilbo's pocket and peer at the sleeping critter. “This is a most peculiar situation, I must say. I do not sense any evil in this transformed creature but it is best if I go find Radagast and ask him for advice on this matter.”

\--- 

Before long Bilbo found a small wooden box and filled it with grass and straw from the stables. He also managed to beg off vegetables scraps from Bombur’s kitchen. Although Thorin was the one keeping the uneasy truce between the dwarrows and the captured former orc leader, it was Bilbo and his big heart that had decided from the end of that chaotic meeting that a more agreeable living situation was in order.

He began of course with Kili who had a weakness for anything cute and soft. Showing him the first trick that he managed to teach Azog in his guinea pig form proved to be the right choice in his mission: Kili’s frown melted into an wide smile as the little animal stood on his hind legs and waved his front legs at the sight of a piece of carrot.

His brother Fili was easily convinced once Kili fell prey to the combined charms of the hobbit and the squeak ball. Bifur by default loved animals regardless of their origins, and once Dori had been convinced to sew a miniature dwarven vest decorated with intricate gold stitchings, Ori, Bombur, Bofur, Oin and Gloin had quickly joined the ranks of those who had become big fans of the now-cute-as-a-button enemy. Even the ever-aggressive Dwalin could be caught sneaking a treat every now and then to the little rodent.

Thorin was still grumbling about the hobbit-imposed civility but it was obvious by the end of the third week that he had grown to enjoy the presence of the four-legged furball. There was no longer any talk of war tribunal shortly thereafter. Only Balin and Thorin’s sister Dis who had arrived with her scouts shortly after the war continued to maintain a neutral attitude toward the newly adopted company pet.

It was during Bilbo’s regular afternoon tea with Dis when the princess asked, “What is going on between you and Thorin?” She had noticed a change in the relationship between her brother and her hobbit friend and in true fashion decided to inquire with the side that was less likely to act like a complete oaf who could only respond with monosyllabic grunts and vigorous slamming of doors.

“What do you mean?” Bilbo feigned surprise as he set his cup back on the saucer and took a biscuit.

“I am neither blind nor deaf, my dear Bilbo. Pretty much everyone in this mountain has been a witness to you and my pig-headed brother arguing about absolutely everything over these past few weeks. You are lucky that no one has noticed the deadly daggers in your eyes that you readily throw around whenever Thorin happens to be in the vicinity.”

“Oh Dis.” Bilbo wrung his hands as his eyes bore into the intricate patterns on the carpet before him. “I know that I did the right thing,” here he gave her a weak shrug, "and I feel childish and petty that I get so angry but whenever I see the way Thorin handles Azog... it’s... something’s just not right.” He hesitated and tried to swallow his next remark but ended up hiccuping in frustration. “N..now when I _-hic-_ remind Thorin that he had planned to _-hic-_ put Azog before a war tribunal, he _-hic-_ looks at me as if I had gone completely mad _-hic-_ and then accuses me of animal cruelty. Me _-hic-_ a hobbit. Cruel to _-hic-_ animals!?”

Dis moved over to Bilbo’s seat and calmly placed her hands on her friend’s shoulders. “Will you tell me what really happened on Ravenhill?”

“I... I don’t know!” the sad hobbit insisted. He would not, no, he could never tell anyone that his magic ring had created this mess of a situation in the first place. Just as he could never tell anyone that since the battle he had been spending hours every day in his room trying to invoke the magic of the ring to reverse the spell, only resulting in the depressing realization that he had absolutely no control over it. His pleading, begging and angry threats had only been reflected back by the dull shine of the ring. If inanimate jewelry had any emotions he was sure that it was mocking his powerlessness and reveling in his helpless state.

Bilbo had no answers for Dis or himself, and so he rested his head in his hands and cried until there were no more tears left because he understood with a startling clarity how he had lost the one that he most cared about.

The dwarrowdam took his hands and spoke, “Do not despair. I’m sure you and my unreasonable irrational clod of a brother will patch things up in the near future.” And in her mind, as the hobbit thanked her with moist eyes, she thought, _and one day Thorin will look at you again the same way he looks at Azog now, and that’s when I will knock enough sense into him so that he will finally confess his feelings._

\---

It was the final straw when Dain told Bilbo that Thorin had ordered that a special pillow and stand be made and placed next to the throne, replacing the chair that Bilbo had been sitting on during the public court sessions. He had rushed into the royal living room in an extremely agitated state, trembling with indignation when he questioned the king’s sanity in no uncertain terms. Dis and her sons happened to be in the king’s quarters and were forced to observe the entire heated exchange. In front of their shocked faces the fight ended with Thorin banishing the hobbit from court. In response, Bilbo declared the king banned from all his cooked meals.

Bilbo could not sleep that night. As dawn neared, he was convinced that Azog needed to be removed from Erebor for everyone’s sake. He also reasoned that with Azog gone, the ring in his possession would no longer matter. But he reasoned with himself that he could not trust any of his friend to side with him or help him with this plan: The Azog had become too beloved by the citizens of Erebor thanks to his own efforts. No, the hobbit was certain that it was for the best if he acted alone.

The plan was simple: Bilbo knew that every morning the king tended to his ablutions while leaving the guinea pig in the box on his working desk across from the bathroom door.  This left him with a few precious minutes to sneak into the Thorin’s bedroom and grab the box.

Unfortunately, he could not enter and exit the room quick enough. The dwarrow intuited that something was off about the noises that filtered through the bathroom door from the bedroom. Thorin threw open the door just as Bilbo wrapped his coat around the little animal, muffling his nervous squeals.

“Bilbo, what are you doing with Zoggy?!”

Bilbo did not answer. He knew that he had only a few minutes to make it out of the gates and into the forest so he focused on running as fast as he could while carrying the box. He heard Thorin curse behind him as he was tearing after the hobbit, his feet loosely stuffed into boots and his shirt tugged in haphazardly. “Stop him!”, he heard the king shouting at his guards who stood outside the royal chamber door; they in turn merely gazed at the fleeing hobbit in confusion.

As the hobbit cleared the corner into the final 100 metres towards the exit, he almost crashed into the head of security. Dwalin was just about to head back into the mountain and would have only needed to stretch out his hand to grab the runner but Bilbo managed to skid to a full stop and do a sharp 90 degree turn the right where he continued to barrel down the aisle that ran parallel to the outer wall. Unfortunately he knew that it only led back towards the royal quarters which left him with exactly one escape: The balcony at the end of the hall.

“Bilbo, stop! What has gotten into you?” Thorin had collided with Dwalin but it took only a few seconds for him to recover from the crash and resume his run after Bilbo.  Dwalin followed his king close on his heels.

Bilbo threw back a quick glance and desperately yelled, “Trust me, I know what I am doing!” while he threw himself over the threshold into the balcony. The balcony was a massive stone patio carved directly into the side of the mountain, overlooking a vast escarpment so steep that one look was enough to discourage anyone from climbing it.

It was never the hobbit’s intention to flee to the balcony but he found himself without any other options: He had already broken Thorin’s trust enough times to know that not seeing this through would not end well for their friendship. He took a very deep breath and raised the box over the edge.

“Don’t you dare, Bilbo Baggins! Don’t you dare throw him off the balcony!” Thorin had stopped at the archway and dug his fingers into the frame to refrain from making the situation any worse. Dwalin stood behind his leader with his axe raised, snarling.

Bilbo yelled back, “I am doing what’s best for everybody. I’m doing this for you, Thorin!” Everything in his body screamed at him to not hurt Azog but the fear and worry that he saw in Thorin’s eye sparked his own fears anew. He leaned further into the railing and slowly forced himself to pry his fingers off the box.  The box and its content were trembling fiercely.

It should have suprised nobody when Radagast and Gandalf suddenly appeared atop an eagle outside the balcony. “Bilbo, whatever you do, DO NOT DROP THE PIG!”

“No, Gandalf! I have to do this!” Bilbo’s hands were shaking but he refused to pull Azog back into safety.

“Stubborn Baggins!” The grey wizard shouted. “Don’t be like Thorin. Do you want to singlehandedly destroy this entire kingdom!”

“Th...the entire ... what?” Bilbo froze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience!
> 
> The second chapter ended up doubling in size once I had some time to mull over Chapter 1. Chapter 3 right now is approximately the same length as Chapter 1 but I think I will give it a few days to see if it provides an adequate end to the story. I might go back to Chapter 2 for additional changes so if you have any suggestions feel free to send them along my way.
> 
> I had planned to work in a bit of guinea pig Azog POV but I couldn't make it work - my apologies. Looks like I should practice my animal POVs!
> 
> P.S.: My goal for chapter 3 is to work in the word "sulk". Guess who best fits that verb?


	3. Wish Revisited.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which everything is resolved in a timely manner.

~~ Immediately Afterwards in the Royal Living Room ~~

“Sorry. I’m so sorry.” Bilbo apologized over and over in a shaken voice even though the wizards assured him each time that there was nothing to be sorry for. Nevertheless he could not fight back the overwhelming anxiety whenever his thoughts turned to the fact that he, a peaceful hobbit and definitely the most gentle-mannered member of Thorin’s Company, had been a hair-trigger away from causing the destruction of Middle Earth. One decision made in emotional desparation coupled with a pair of unsteady hands or a nervous stumble, and he would have unwillingly become Sauron’s most successful collaborator. He could easily imagine the other Shirelings shaking their heads in consternation while telling the story of Bilbo Baggins and how his outrageous Tookish taste for adventuring had brought not only the demise of the world as they knew it but also managed to give all the hobbits a bad name.

From the depths of an armchair in the far corner of the room came a huffy comment. “Don’t be like Thorin, pfft. As if that’s actually a bad thing.” The King Under the Mountain was still sulking and made no effort to hide the shades that he was throwing at the two wizards in the room. Fortunately they were not paying him any attention as they stood over the fireplace, weaving their staves over an iron bowl that contained the ring Bilbo had found. The raven-haired dwarrow seemed ready to share more of his sullen thoughts but when he opened his mouth again, his sister put an effective stop to it with her sharp elbow.

The wizards mumbled and hummed an offbeat melody - its rising and falling tone was reflected by the glowing intensity of the ring. When the glow reached its peak, both tapped the edge of the bowl at the exact same time, and the bowl disappeared in a small cloud of smoke. What remained was a small metal thimble with rune etchings that Gandalf picked up from the unlit fireplace with the tip of his staff. He placed the thimble into a small wooden box and handed it over to Radagast.  “It’s done,” he murmured, took off his pointy hat and looked for the nearest wine pitcher and then, when he failed to spy any unused goblets, simply took the hobbit’s wine glass and drained it in one sitting.

“Gandalf?” Bilbo sat on the ground in the middle of the room wrapped inside a huge wool blanket that Dis had procured for him, and he looked up at the grey wizard with wide hazel eyes. He had sipped some of the wine before Gandalf got a hold of it but it was not enough to stop shivering.

“The ring - we cast an obfuscation spell because this is indeed Sauron’s One Ring. Until we figure out a way to destroy it without risking discovery by Sauron, we temporarily clouded its identity.” Both wizards turned and smiled at the hobbit while Gandalf continued, “My dear Bilbo, you have done your best in keeping this ring hidden and away from enemy hands. In return, Yavanna blessed you with the ability to keep you mostly safe from its influence.”

“Mostly?” The golden-haired hero teetered.

Thorin looked up from his sulk, his face having transformed into one of utmost worry for his friend. He groused, “Explain, Tharkûn.”

Gandalf raised his hands in a reassuring manner. “Bilbo. Did you not wonder about the strong negative emotions that you developed against Azog once you moved into the mountain? You may have harboured a sliver of these feelings all along but with your Baggins proclivity to be polite at all cost and your Tookish compassion for all living beings you would have never acted upon the jealousy that you felt without this cursed ring. It goaded you into doing something that was going entirely against your nature and upbringing.”

Thorin suddenly looked as if he could have been knocked down by a feather while Bilbo cried out, “But it is still my fault, Gandalf! I found the ring; I rescued Azog during the battle; I convinced Thorin to give him safe shelter in the mountain; and then I actively worked to endear him to all the dwarves, only to completely discard my own humane efforts just so I could threaten to throw him off the balcony. I meant to do it, too!” The hobbit buried his head in his palms, full of shame and regret that his mind did not register the big calloused hand that had snuck itself onto his back only to withdraw a short moment later.

\---

When Gandalf had talked Bilbo off the proverbial cliff and pried the box with the rodent out of his hands, he had immediately hauled the limp hobbit off the balcony and into Thorin’s living quarters, striding in great haste towards the study off of the king’s living room. But it was the brown wizard who slammed the door shut in front of everyone else after an apologetic shrug, leaving behind a stunned and speechless group of Thorin, Dwalin, Dis, two royal guards, and Kili and FIli who had stumbled after them when they heard the commotion in the hallway.

Uncertain as to how they ought to deal with this sudden lockout, the dwarrows stood around until Dis took charge and sent Dwalin to fetch Balin and the rest of the Company, ordered Thorin’s guards to secure the perimeter, and called on the royal servants to send word to Bombur to bring food and drink to the royal living room. After that, there was nothing to do but to wait.

Thorin was particularly restless: Deprived of his two main sources of calm, he paced forth and back, back and forth, before his nephews managed to drag him into an armchair and press a plate of food into his hands, determined to keep his fidgeting down to a minimum by sitting down in front of the chair and leaning their backs against their uncle’s legs while they pickled their own nerves in mugs of ale.

Bilbo and the wizards would not re-emerge from the study until several hours later.

When the door finally flew open Radagast spilled out of the room. Gandalf followed at a more leisurely pace, turning around to make sure that Bilbo was following. The hobbit was carrying the box again but now held it with far more dread, shuffling slowly as if it was full of explosives that could detonate at any second.

“Oh, you are still here. Good!” Radagast rubbed his hands as if he discovered something particularly delightful, and while Kili and Fili allowed themselves to be boosted by that hopeful gesture, Thorin’s existing frown only deepened.

Gandalf prodded the brown wizard gently. “Go on, Aiwendil. You tell them.”

“Yes, what of it?” The king took a deep breath and forced himself to remain composed as he braced himself for one of Radagast’s long expositional (and pretty loopy) ramblings but to everyone’s surprise Radagast dispensed with his usual euphemistic language and instead gave the briefest and most concise explanation: That what Bilbo had stumbled upon was a powerful piece crafted by none other than Sauron, and that this One Ring had the power to bring every living being on Middle Earth under his command. Oh, and that it was also responsible for turning Azog into a guinea pig.

“And so you see,” Radagast was bouncing up and down on the spot, “Azog instantly became an entrapment for Erebor. Guinea pigs are in fact one of the highest forms of transmogrified beings, second only to rabbits.” Radagast liberated Azog from his box and placed him on his hat after a quick tickle to the soft belly, chuckling when the furry creature pawed at him for more attention. “Can you believe that with a bit more time this little animal would have taken control of the entire mountain?” He pointed to Bilbo, “This halfling instinctively tried to protect you all from danger at the risk of his own life.”

Gandalf added, “Unfortunately, if Bilbo had managed to kill your former enemy it would have triggered many horrible events. Not only would this have darkened our hobbit's heart for all eternity but it would have also allowed Azog’s evil part of his soul be released into your realm where it would have looked for a new host, one that wielded the most power. That would have been you, Thorin.” And with this announcement Bilbo’s stream of apologies began to spill from his lips.

Kili and Fili had followed the conversation with increasing concern, and as everyone in the room attempted to digest the new information, they clung to their uncle’s legs, staring in horror at the harmless looking creature perched atop Radagast’s oddly shaped headpiece.

\---

It was decided that the disguised ring would be entrusted to Bilbo for continued safekeeping until a more permanent solution could be found. And as Gandalf shared with a twinkle in his eyes, “It would be sensible for Master Baggins to keep it close at hand should there be any mending emergencies. We know how much hobbits dislike torn clothes.”

Then the wizards directed their attention to Azog whose shiny black eyes were passively watching the proceedings beneath him. His nose began to twitch as he noticed the glances of fourteen dwarves, one hobbit and a tall wizard fall on him.

“Radagast has a potion that should help us with the Azog-pigness,” said Gandalf. The other wizard was already rummaging in his humongous pouch, removing from its depths all kinds of questionable items and distributing them across several dwarven hands for temporary care until he at last uttered a satisfied grunt. He triumphantly held up a dark brown ampule and spoke. “Bilbo, if you would take Azog and step over here, please?” He bend down slightly to allow Bilbo to grasp the wary-looking critter.

With another singsong (only from Radagast this time) and a few drops from the mysterious bottle the former orc leader was instantly transformed into a new creature. The wizard tried to put everyone's mind at rest with “now he is only as dangerous as the Watcher in the Water*. Yes, yes, completely harmless within the transmogrification scale,” he waved away Bilbo’s outcry.

Still, the entire company had exhaled with relief when Azog left with Ori and his mother hen of a brother Dori, who was ecstatic at the prospect that his little brother had gained a permanent companion who would protect and love him almost as much as he and their brother Nori did. The smiling Australian Shepherd dog trotted after the gentle young scribe with a besotted look and guileless droopy eyes, so focused on his new object of affection that he had paid no attention to anyone else in the room.

If Thorin was disappointed or sad about Azog’s new form or redirected devotion, he was not showing any emotions. Unlike Kili, who moped in his brother’s arms.

~~ On the Balcony That Evening ~~

Two wispy trails of smoke trailed into the darkening sky as two figures sat quietly side by side on a stone bench, facing the glittering stars over the horizon, their thoughts piercing through the vast emptiness of the sky. There was plenty that needed to be said between the broad shouldered one with the flowing dark hair and the golden curly haired with the softer body. Neither was in a hurry to interrupt the undisturbed silence between them.

Shortly after the wizards had left, Bofur pressed two of his pipes and a small leather pouch into the hobbit’s hands, urging him and the king to have a smoke and “sort things out, you know?” Dis had then unceremoniously ushered the miner and the rest of the company out of Thorin’s rooms, including her sons who protested with vehemence, insisting in between fits of giggles that their uncle and favourite hobbit would surely require chaperones from now on. Only after Dwalin threatened to drag them to the training area for an extra long session in evasive maneuvers (which really just meant hours of running and dodging blows from the tattooed warrior) did the young dwarrows follow the others out the door.

When the last shadow of the sun vanished, Thorin took the pipe out of his mouth and gently shook it upside down to loosen the ashes. He cleared his throat, then softly suggested, “So?”

“So....” Bilbo’s voice was as noncommittal as it had been when Gandalf had surprised him on his bench outside Bag End over twelve months ago.  

“Why did you never tell me?”

There was an extended silence before the hobbit answered. “I thought it was obvious that I cared a great deal for you. I on the other hand didn’t know if you would ever stop regarding me as a fussy and meek hobbit who could be no more than a grocer. What king would concern himself with such a creature, especially when it comes to affairs of the heart?”

“But you changed my mind so swiftly, Bilbo. Did you not hear me at the Carrock? Or notice my displeasure at Beorn when he fondled you and called you his little bunny? What of my gift of mithril? Was it not clear that I treasured you and wanted to protect from all harm?”

“Pardon me?” Bilbo was confused.

And all of a sudden Thorin understood. “I thought you knew that the mithril shirt was the second most valuable item in the entire kingdom. That someone told you that it was our way of confessing love. My love for you. But when you did not respond with an offer of your own heart, well.... I took it to mean that you could not see it as anything more than friendship.”

“You... you are clearly immune to clues if thought that I only wanted you as a friend.” Bilbo answered with a catch in his voice. Then his eyes lit up with a hint of mischief. “But I will have you know that I accept nothing but the best from anyone who wishes to court me. Yours was just an unlucky circumstance in that the best meant ...”

“... the Arkenstone. Which you decided to take without asking.” Thorin finished the sentence, his eyes rounding in realization before he threw back his head and laughed.

Bilbo harrumphed with a sweet smile. “Will you look at that - I was perfectly within my rights. So you were spectacularly wrong when you tried to throw me off the rampart and banished me. You were supposed to give me that damn stone anyways, you brute!”

“I had no idea you hobbits were so puffed up when it comes to your sense of self worth,” came the playful retort. It was followed by a quiet and much more sober, “I’m so very sorry, my dear Bilbo.”

“Ah, that’s quite alright, you know. We both made horrible decisions. I just wished that... that we had opened up to each other much sooner.” Bilbo glanced at the dwarrow and caught Thorin nodding, the blue eyes shining with a tenderness that caused extreme fluttering in his stomach.

The hobbit looked down at his hands and busied himself with brushing off some unseen lint from his lap. “I never told you that inviting someone to a regular walk holds significant meaning to us hobbits. Because that is how we express a desire to court.”

“Oh.” Thorin wanted to respond but the hobbit continued. “When you started to bring Azog with you on our walks, I was too scared to tell you how I felt. I... I was afraid that you would profess your preference of a certain guinea pig’s presence over mine.”

The king could no longer hold back at that remark. “Bilbo - you said you were going home to Bag End after you helped us get our home back. I was going to never see you again, so what good would it had done me to ask you to stay when your intentions were so clearly stated all along? I forfeited any right to obligate you after my despicable actions!” Thorin growled before he grew pensive. “Have you noticed how Azog’s curls and colouring are not unlike yours? I recognized the similarity when you forced his care on me, and so I thought,” Thorin blushed at his own foolishness, “I thought that he was at least something that would remind me of you once you were gone.”

“You silly, silly lunkhead - my heart fervently wished that you would ask me to stay here in Erebor. With you. If you had in any way indicated that you held similar feelings for me I would have made this place my home in an instant.”

“I would like you to remain here with me. My hobbit.” Thorin placed his hands on the Bilbo’s shoulder and pulled him against his broad chest. His heart ached in a way that could only be soothed by the soft form between his arms and the smell that always made him think of morning dew, spring grass and freshly baked bread. He nuzzled into Bilbo’s hair and sighed, his insides bursting into a million tiny rays that imbued him with a dizzy happiness.

Bilbo was stunned. How was it possible that this brave warrior king could fall in love with him, an ordinary hobbit of the Shire? How did this happen?

The warm and strong lips that met his lips a moment later erased any questions from his mind. Not just questions and doubts but any semblance of logical thought dissipated as they finally expressed their desire and need for each other, their mouths yielding to unearth all their buried feelings. As Thorin began to pull his hobbit even closer, Bilbo’s fingers tangled into the dwarrow’s lustrous long hair.

\---

Noone noticed the shadow of a darrowdam retreating from the hall just outside the balcony.

Dis smiled to herself as she stopped in front of the door leading to her rooms. There would be many demanding questions leveled at her once she entered her rooms where she had shooed in everyone who cared as much as her about the happiness of their brave king and even braver hobbit. She paused to savour the good news all by herself for a few more seconds before she opened the door.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Under the wire, hooray! Did I put in enough to justify the title? 
> 
> If you have never seen an Australian Shepherd dog before, [this is the dog](https://www.instagram.com/p/6Xl4vPGEDR/?taken-by=gigiyogini) that popped into my mind when I wrote the story. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed reading the story as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thanks so much for your kudos, comments and views!!
> 
> I'm off to bed now but will try and reread and clean up the story over the next few days so if you care about typos, bad grammar or awkward word choices, feel free to stop by later this week.
> 
> \-----------------------------------------------------  
> *The name of the creature is from “Fishes of Middle Earth” by Phillip Wilink at [https://sites.google.com/a/fieldmuseum.org/pwillink/](https://sites.google.com/a/fieldmuseum.org/pwillink/%20) \- scroll to the bottom for the PDF document. I love that this exists!


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